"Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at the close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)

     "So much work, not enough time? Don't you wish you had  something

     Time. 

At one point all we had was time, but now... time varied. You could be alive one minute and the next you could be a human happy meal for some half rotting dude. Or you could die of starvation, dehydration, infection, disease, suicide, or death by a fellow man. Either way if the undead don't get you, something else will and whether you like it or not, if you don't take a bullet to the head, you, yourself will become a moving, rotting corpse.

     The infomercial spokes person carried on the television, his voice was enthusiastically trying to sell me something that was now useless to everyone. When I had found this place, the occupants had found solace in family suicide. But, of course, they did not that the, "bullet to the head," memo seriously. In fact, they had abandoned that whole ideal completely; when I had found them, they had been hanging from the basement ceiling. Dead but still moving, wanting to feed on anything that had a working pulse. I had made quick work of disposing them, putting a bullet between their eyes, before cutting the coarse ropes from their necks and piled their bodies in the corner of the room.

     I was shivering even though outside, the weather was blistering hot. I kept my hand pressed tight against my thigh, blood was seeping from between my fingers and I was slowly but surely losing a lot of blood.
Outside the door I could hear the undead moaning and scratching at the door, demanding to be let in. The lights above my head flickered once before shutting off completely. The power is gone and so is the world.

    The world wasn't always this fucked up. No, it had once been peaceful and full of life. It's funny once looking back on life as it once was and wondering what I was going to do those days, to life now and wondering if I was going to die in the next hour. No, life had been peaceful once...